


Do Spiders Like Die Hard?

by TheChristmasSerialMurders



Series: Avengers NINE-NINE! [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: ExasperatedMom!Terry, Gina being Gina, Jakey-time!, die hard references... but let's be honest, gratuitious violence... of doughnuts, idk - Freeform, peraltiago stuff?, return of the night boys... make that the day boys, somewhat sassy spidey, spiders! but they don't make an appearance, what happens in queens stays in queens... only it doesn't, would it be b99 without die hard?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 02:31:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16232402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChristmasSerialMurders/pseuds/TheChristmasSerialMurders
Summary: That one time I'm inspired by a tumblr post and Jake and Charles meet a certain vigilante. In Queens. Whoops!Die Hard references, finger lickin' good and sleeping on Captain America's couch (ish) ensue.Just a normal Wednesday afternoon then.Thanks to my mates for making me write after so long -- the sore wrist was sooo worth it!





	Do Spiders Like Die Hard?

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen Spiderman: Homecoming yet. I apologise if Spidey seems a bit... off. I tried to sass but... eh.
> 
> Anyway. Enjoy!
> 
> Also, yes, I know, this is the 21st century, what loser uses CDs in the car anymore? Just me then? Okay. 
> 
> Let's just say, for the purposes of this fic, Charles joins me in Loserdom, shall we?
> 
> CSM, out!

Do Spiders Like Die Hard?

“Listen up, Squad.” Sergeant Terry Jeffords announced in the briefing room at the usual morning meeting.

He wasn't heard over the hubbub.

Jake and Amy were whispering sweet nothings to each other, Charles, seated right behind them was watching them like his dreams had come true. Terry could've sworn in court, hand on the Bible, whole truth and nothing but, that cartoon hearts were coming out of his eyes.

Hitchcock and Scully were loudly debating how good a three month old pizza they'd fished out the back of the fridge was. Terry knew for a fact that the pizza was green, he saw it when reaching in for a yoghurt, strategically placed as far away from the hazardous waste as possible. Terry still couldn't understand how neither of them had died of food poisoning yet.

Rosa had her feet up on the table in front of her and was ignoring everyone while cleaning under her fingernails with a knife she'd pulled out of nowhere.

Gina, wearing her jersey that shouted “GINA KNOWS BEST” (she barely seemed to take it off nowadays) was loudly updating those who didn't really want to know about kitten videos on Youtube. Terry had no idea that cats and balloons caused so much excitement. Maybe he'd check it out later.

Just a normal Wednesday morning.

“Squad!” Terry all but yelled, punctuating his outburst by slamming the folder he was carrying onto the shiny surface of the podium.

Immediate, shocked, blessed silence.

“You're worse than my girls five minutes before Doc McStuffins!”

Most of the adults looked chastened, Hitchcock and Scully, as always, looked like they'd just been whacked over the head with a beat cop's baton. How were they still being hired, again?

“Now, on today's agenda,” the Sarge continued, opening his folder, “Peralta, Boyle, you're going up to Queens to cover for the 65th. They're going on some training seminar in Vegas.”

Groans came from Peralta's table, but Charles visibly brightened. The man was the living embodiment of a puppy.

“You mean I'll be having quality Jakey-time with my man, here?” he exclaimed while slapping Jake on the back. “I'd better go polish my CDs!”

“Dude!” Jake complained, turning in his seat to look at the man behind him, “you have gotta stop calling cases we work on together 'Jakey-time'!”

\--------------------------------------------------

A short while later they'd arrived. Before they headed into the precinct, Jake turned to Boyle, car idling in the parking spot.

“How sucky is it that we're gonna be pushing papers while Detective Doughnut Dude gets to have fun gambling in Vegas?”

Charles shrugged. “I dunno. Could be fun.”

“The Vegas thing, yeah, obviously.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “No, the return of the Night Boys! Though it should maybe be rechristened the 'Day Boys'.”

"Can't it be the 'Day Bros' rather?" Jake responded.

"Nah. Not original enough."

  
\--------------------------------------------------

Checking in at the front desk was a new experience in impatience and disgust. A chubby dude who seemed to take the “doughnut-eating cop” stereotype to the next level, sat and watched them approach through narrowed eyes, licking sugar dust from each and every one of his fingers.

“Hi. We're the backup from the Nine-Nine.” Jake said, and the guy held up a finger shiny with saliva, the universal sign for 'one moment' while he painstakingly licked the last three of his fingers clean.

Jake suppressed a shudder, but only barely.

Tapping his foot he subtly cleared his throat, while Charles watched the guy, an expression of open disgust on his face. “Dude.”

Finishing up his pinkie finger, the guy looked at them innocently. “Wha?”

Charles swallowed visibly, looking slightly like he was going to be sick.

Jake croaked out, “can we have our orders, please?”

“Oh, yeah,” the guy replied cheerily, “sure!”

He handed a grubby, greasy folder over to Charles who took it with a disgusted noise and held it by its corner.

Desk-guy (why wasn't he wearing a nametag? Jake thought grumpily) then turned in his seat and reached up as far as he could, lifting his butt off the seat slightly to reach a pair of carkeys. He pulled them off the wall and tossed them over to Jake, who caught them as gingerly as he could.

“Uh. Thanks. We'll... get right on it.” Jake muttered and the guy dismissed them with a wave of his hand, already sizing up the next doughnut.

“I never want to eat a doughnut again.” Charles complained, as they turned heel and walked away.

“Yeah, same, buddy. Even I have standards.” Jake replied, sounding traumatised. “Anyway, what's the folder say?”

Charles reluctantly opened the unhygienic folder and skimmed over the single page within.

“It says one thing.” he said. “Patrol.”

“Aw, maaaan!” Jake replied. “Fine, whatever. First they murder our happy memories of doughnuts, now we're being demoted with one word and slimy keys. Well, I say 'NO'. Let's wash these keys in acid and then take our own car.”

“Cool!” Charles replied enthusiastically. “Then I don't have to switch fifty CDs to different cars!”

  
\--------------------------------------------------

As they cruised around Queens, waiting for mischief by listening to the old fashioned police radio they snitched from the cruiser they ditched...

  
THREE MINUTES EARLIER

“C'mon, Charles!” Jake hissed, his voice bouncing off the walls of the underground parking garage.

“Gina only showed me the lockpicking video once while we were smooshing booties, so much has happened since then! My Dad has gotten married, I've nearly gotten married, you disappeared for six months...” Jake winced guiltily at that, “...and I have a child!”

“Right,” Jake replied, “Nikolaj.”

“No.” Boyle corrected him, “Nickolaj.”

“Literally do not hear a difference.” Jake said as the click of the door lock sounded.

“I'm--”

But Boyle never got to finish his sentence because as soon as the car door opened, what sounded like fifty thousand alarms went off, the sound bouncing off the walls and straight back at them.

Covering his ears with his hands, Jake yelled, “Grab the radio, Charles, and let's get outta here!”

\--------------------------------------------------

….they heard a report coming through for a jewellery store robbery going down not far from them.

“The Day Boys in pursuit,” Charles said into the walkie speaker, “ETA, ten seconds.”

“Roger that, Day Boys,” the dispatcher said, sounding like he was chewing on something.

“Doughnut-Guy?” Jake said disbelievingly.

“Yup. Slow day.” the guy replied.

“One thing I gotta say,” Jake said amicably as he drove up to the scene, “why haven't Scully and Hitchcock put in requests to be transferred here?”

“Are we ever going to know his name?” Charles mused in answer.

“Nope.” the walkie crackled, “it'll forever be a mystery to you. Doughnut-Guy, out.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Jake replied, switching the car off and climbing out, Charles right behind him.

\--------------------------------------------------

Taking in the sight disbelievingly, Jake and Charles were struck momentarily speechless. A robbery was taking place. Emphasis on “was”. Three perps were tied together, bound and gagged by a guy in a red and blue costume who was just tying a bow around the lot of them with some weird whitish stuff.

“Ehem.” Jake cleared his throat and the costumed dude jumped about a foot in the air. Turning to face them, revealing a black spider-shape on his chest, he muttered, “weird. My spider-senses should've gone off.”

“I'm sorry, your what?” Boyle replied.

“Spider senses.” the kid (because he definitely sounded like a kid) repeated, shifting on his feet, obviously wanting to skedaddle.

Jake interjected excitedly “you have powers??”

“Much as I'd love to elaborate, you guys are cops, though unconventionally dressed, so I'm gonna just... go.”

“Wait!” Jake said, holding his hand up, palm out, fingers spread.

“You want a high-five before I go?” Spiderman replied, amusement in his voice, those eye thingies on his costume narrowing slightly.

“No. Before you go, there's this thing I do to all masked vigilantes I meet.” Jake replied.

“What? We only know SuperDa-- oof!” Charles managed to get out before Jake elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oooookay? But make it quick, homework calls.” the kid replied, deciding to humour this cool looking cop. “But first, who are you guys, actually?”

“Detective Jake Peralta, and this is my partner and best friend, Charles Boyle.” Jake replied, flashing his badge, while Charles waved, with a grimace on his face, holding his ribs.

“Oh, well, congratulations! Its 2018, man, you do you! Or, y'know, him.” Spidey replied, a smile in his voice.

“Um. Police partners, buddy. I have a girlfriend. And he has a child. Nikolaj.”

“Nickolaj.” the kid and Charles both corrected in unison.

“Still can't hear a difference, guys!” Jake complained.

\--------------------------------------------------

“So, what were you gonna do to me?” Spidey said, once introductions were done. “Drag me off in chains? Want a spare set of handcuffs? I can make them.” the kid sounded remarkably chilled, if kind of pissed off that he was being held up by vigilante-hating policemen again.

“Wow, dramatic.” Peralta replied. “Nah, we're just gonna question you, probably, important police stuffs and then let you get back to... your homework?”

“Promise?” the kid replied excitedly.

“Um. Sure.” Jake replied, a little weirded out by the kid's enthusiasm for _homework_ of all things. “Anyway, question numero uno: is it true, since you're obviously Spiderman, that you can summon spiders? Or is that just a rumour? If you can, can you ask them their favourite movie? Is it Die Hard?” he turned excitedly to Boyle and slapped him on the chest. Charles winced. “I bet its Die Hard.”

Charles nodded sagely. “Who can't love 'Yippee Kayak Other Buckets'?”

This time Peralta winced.

Spidey was watching this entire exchange, exuding more and more amusement until he folded his arms and said, “When I next see the spiders, I'll be sure to ask 'em. Though I have a hunch that they don't entirely love a movie with 'DIE' in the name and fire and explosions and stuff. Also, dude...” he turned to Charles who nodded, “...can I use your 'Yippee Kayak Other Buckets' thing?”

“Yeah, sure!” Charles replied happily while Peralta facepalmed and groaned into his hand.

“If that's all, gentlemen...” Spiderman started, but Peralta stopped him.

“One last question.”

“Sure.”

“Where do you live?” he asked. “I mean, for filling in paperwork and stuff later. You can give an approximate, I don't need a physical address or anything, yet.”

The kid's eye things narrowed again and he replied tightly, “Queens.”

“Oh! You live here!” Charles very cleverly deduced. “Well, that's a shame. We live in Brooklyn.”

“Like Cap did?”

“Captain America, Cap??” Peralta replied, his voice a few octaves higher than normal.

“...who else?” the kid sassed back.

“Awwwweeeeesssooooooooooooome!” Jake said excitedly, “we gotta get home and tell Amy this, imagine if her apartment used to be where Cap lived during the War!”

  
\--------------------------------------------------

“I don't understand.” Amy Santiago said later, once Charles and Jake were safely at the Nine-Nine again. Then she slapped a hand over her mouth and a muffled “that's never happened before” came out from between her fingers.

“Ladies and gentleman!” Gina announced, pouncing on the opportunity in front of her, “here we see the Santiago in her natural environment descending to the plane of human existence we all reside in instead of her usual Robot World.”

“Shut up, Gina.” Amy replied irritably, removing her hand from her mouth. “What I don't understand...” she winced, “...is that I thought John MacLane was your hero. Not Captain America.”

“Oh, yeah, John MacLane is still my biggest hero, but Cap is like... my second biggest?” Jake replied. “But honestly.... WE COULD BE SLEEPING IN CAPTAIN AMERICA'S BED!!”

Amy looked worried for a second. “I hope he doesn't want it back...”

“Obviously because of all the booty smooshing we do!” Jake announced to the entire precinct... and got no reaction.

“Not cool, Jake.” Santiago complained, “Enjoy sleeping on Captain America's couch tonight.”

Charles, at his desk, wiped a tear from his eye. “Their first fight.” he whispered. “They grow up so fast.”

  
\--------------------------------------------------

_AFTER CREDITS SCENE_

_Amy Santiago stood looking out over the harbour, waiting for her appointment to arrive. Checking her watch, she noted he still had two minutes to go. She was content to wait. She hugged the binder she was holding a little tighter to her chest, the wind whipping her ponytail into the air a little._

_Sure enough, two minutes later she heard feet softly hit the ground and a 'shttrk' noise. Turning around she rested her gaze, for the first time, on the young hero Jake now won't shut up about._

_“Hello, Peter Parker.” She said in her best evil villain voice, “I've been expecting you.”_

_“W-w-who's P-Peter Parker?” The costumed kid stuttered back._

_“Oh, don't play games with me, kid.” She replied menacingly, narrowing her eyes and lowering her voice for effect. Boy, was this fun._

_“I've found you. Sure, it only took going through thirty thousand social media posts and an egg salad sandwitch so I could use the facial recognition software, but still... I. Found. You.”_

_“Yay, well done.” the kid replied flatly, holding out his wrists. “Arrest me, smarty-pants cop lady.”_

_“Oh, no, no, no.” Amy said, stalking towards him with each word. “No, I have something much better in mind for you.”_

_The kid visibly swallowed, and she barely kept herself from laughing._

_“If you're going to blackmail me...” the kid squeaked, “I don't have any money, but I'm sure Mr Stark will...-”_

_“I don't want your money!” she spat, now right in the kid's personal space._

_She held up a pen between them._

_“Its Jake's birthday, can I have your autograph please?”_

_The kid reached, hesitantly, for the pen._

  
_\--------------------------------------------------_  
_THE SQUAD WILL RETURN_


End file.
